


Magnificent Son

by littlestdeath



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Daddy Kink, F/M, Implied/Referenced Feminization, M/M, Mild D/s, Parent/Child Incest, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-14 02:19:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7995088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlestdeath/pseuds/littlestdeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is fourteen getting off on the image of his father’s naked body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Magnificent Son

**Author's Note:**

> It's all consensual. Let me know if you think other Tags should be added.
> 
> Enjoy ;)  
> littlestdeath

Dean is fourteen and his body is starting to change. His eyes are starting to wander. The occasional classmate and he sit in dark corners and watch dirty videos online. He figures out how to make himself feel good with a daub of lotion and his hand.

He is fourteen and excited by the possibility of sex.

He is fourteen and curious, looking at curves and muscles alike and wondering which he’ll like more

He is fourteen and he watches his father walk out of the bathroom, grumbling about no clean towels, cock hanging heavy between his thick thighs.

He is fourteen and alone in the room he shares with his kid brother, getting off on the image of his father’s naked body.

He is fourteen and the best orgasm of his young life is because he imagines his father’s cock in his mouth.

 

^

 

He fucks a girl the very next day. She’s sixteen, but she says she likes how little Dean is compared to her. He knows, more or less, what he is doing, and she doesn’t complain during or after.

She is the daughter of the owner of the backwater motel they have been staying in for the last week hunting a ghost. Dean gets hard and comes all from the sensation of something warm and wet and tight around his dick for the first time.

This is his virginity, being given to a beautiful girl on the bright cusp of womanhood.

He comes with the image of his father’s wet body in his head.

 

^

 

His father knows he fucked her. Dean can’t hide anything from him.

His father grins and pounds him on the back and gets him his first beer, waving off Sammy’s questions about why Dean gets one. He’s only ten. He’ll learn when he’s older.

His father always figures it out. That’s what makes him a great hunter. He’s good at putting things together.

Dean must try, for as long as he can, to keep his father from figuring this out.

He listens to his father talk about lube and condoms, birth control and consent, what kind of towns it’s safe to do things like this in and which ones not too.

He swallows over and over, keeping down the vomit that threatens.

His father’s lips look so inviting.

 

^

 

He fucks girls. He fucks them a lot.

He fucks and fucks and fucks and fucks.

None of them can fuck his father out of his head.

 

^

 

He’s looking at Dean. Has been all night.

Dean is seventeen and drunk in a bar where they don’t card. Not bad drunk. Not even drunk really. More like walking that line between buzzed and not-able-to-walk-in-a-straight-line. So he knows if he finishes his beer, he’ll tip over that edge.

(Alcohol means it’s not consensual, Dean. Doesn’t matter how much she insists she wants it. A sober person and a drunk person are very different people.)

He puts down his beer. Walks over. The conversation is short.

Dean leans his head on the bar’s outer wall. He’s had his dick sucked before, but never like this. Never like the person doing it knows exactly what a guy likes. Dean fists his hand in the guy’s hair and he gets a pleased keening sound so he fucks his face. He comes and the guy swallows.

“Can you still get it up?” The guy asks, wiping his mouth and grinning.

“Sure.”

“Wanna fuck me?”

“Sure.”

Dean puts his covered dick in the guy’s ass and fucks him face first into the dirty wall. He doesn’t think he’s doing it right, but the man under him is moaning and begging anyway, so he keeps going. When they’re both done they part ways and Dean manages three streets before he has to lean over and vomit.

The Winchester family has one picture of John when he is younger and the guy Dean just fucked had a striking resemblance.

No more men, he promises himself. No more men.

 

^

 

He breaks it two days later.

He’s got the guy on his back legs wrapped around his waist and Dean is plowing into him. Lube is getting everywhere and Dean barely managed to get a condom on before this guy jumped on his dick. So goddamn eager.

Dean hates it. Hates the way the guy begs and writhes and bucks. He goes harder, trying to fuck it out of him. He doesn’t figure out why he doesn’t like it until he’s about to come.

He’s faking it.

Dean pulls out, going soft. He bangs out the door, ignoring the shouts of the guy telling him to fucking get back there and finish it.

 

^  


A week later she’s teaching him how to do it properly. Phoenix, he thinks is what she called herself. All he really cares about is that she still likes a mouth on her cock and a dick in her ass. She tells him she’s straight, technically, as she’s a woman on the inside.

She’s on her hands and knees and Dean is buried inside her with one hand on her cock and the other holding her hip. He listens to her quite explanations of stretch and prostate and keeping it all clean and sanitary and the importance to waiting for it to feel good.

Walking back to the foreclosed house they broke into to stay in this town, Dean thinks of his father. Wonders if John as ever fucked a boy before. If he’d fuck Dean like Dean had fucked that drag queen.

He doesn’t throw up.

 

^

 

Dean is eighteen, but if he takes off his jacket he looks younger.

There’s a certain type of man that will pay any price he names to lay hands on him, and Sammy needs new shoes and food to eat this winter.

He’s not sure who is his first. He’s on his knees and his shoulders are pressed down so that he’s presented like a good bitch. Like they had asked. There are four of them and they are each paying the price separately and Dean thinks of Sammy, thinks of the food they both need and all the money this is going to get him.

As big hands grab his hips and he is split wide and it is his second virginity going and the thick meat is in him, a gruff voice asks;

“Do you like that boy?”

And Dean keens and says, “Yes, Daddy.”

And they go wild. He is fucked again and again and again and when he can no longer tolerate anything in his ass they use his mouth until he has no such thing as a gag reflex and he is swallowing all of it, come and spit and even piss until his belly hurts and it is running down his chin and on to his chest and Dean loves it. They tell him he loves it and he finds he does. Better than any woman, better than any boy he’s had, being fucked and getting used, serving his Daddies is all Dean wants to do for the rest of his life.

Come morning he is full of regret. He takes some of the money and pays a clinic enough to test the results same day. The men had promised to use condoms but they had stopped part way through. Dean thinks they ran out.

He is, amazingly, clean.

He wonders where the regret is coming from. Sammy has new shoes, Dean has a chicken breast in the shitty oven of the long term stay motel they have booked. When the door opens and his father comes through it, smiling at his boys, Dean finally knows.

He cries quietly that night because he had wanted to give his virginity to his father.

 

^

 

The thing is, it’s not just lust over his father’s body. Dean _likes_ him.

His humor is quite and infrequent, but Dean remembers before the fire what he was like. And for all he’s a tough trainer and leader and hunter, he is gentle with their wounds and makes sure they rest plenty when they need it. He expects a lot of them and yells when he feels they haven’t done enough and when they were little he smacked their bottoms as punishment. Now he makes them run laps. It makes them stronger. Makes them better hunters.

Sammy disagrees.

 

^

 

Sammy goes. Dean cries, openly, once he’s gone. His father grips his shoulder and stays there until Dean is done. Neither of them mention it.

   Dean doesn’t need to whore anymore, but he does it anyway. Let’s burly men at truck stops use him, calls them daddy and pretends they’re John. He does not know he’s been caught out until days after he is.

He remembers the night, his carelessness. He had just used a room on the other side of the motel he and his father were staying at. Let the man bend him over and fuck him face first into the mattress. He’d called the man Daddy and begged him to do it harder, do it again. When he comes he shouts John’s name.

(He’s slipped up months ago and now he can’t make himself stop.)  

The guy laughs and wonders aloud who the lucky asshole is that’s got such a pretty whore like him screaming his name and Dean licks his lips and answers honestly that it’s his Daddy. The guy chuckles, pulls Dean back to his lap, promises another four hundred if he’ll let the guy fuck him again and then piss all over him. Dean says yes, and takes his fucking and then holds still while the guy pisses on him, soaks the shirt that never came off and the jeans around his knees.

 

^

 

He knows he’s caught when his father stops him going out one night. Stops him by asking;

“Got another man lined up to pay you for sex, Dean?” And Dean looks at his father, and sees in his eyes what John has seen and

 

He-

 

Can’t-

 

When he comes back to his senses he’s lying on the floor, with his head in his father’s lap and John is looking at him with such concern and that little sliver of anger that’s always just at the edge of everything he feels, that Dean breaks and tells his father everything.

Tells him about being fourteen and wanting what he shouldn’t want and fucking girls trying so hard to forget and then finally letting himself get fucked by a man and how he never wants to have sex any other way, how he loves it, loved getting pounded until he can’t move but how he can only endure it by imagining it’s John, his own father, whose doing it. That he can’t come anymore without imaging it’s his real Daddy fucking his ass. And he’s sorry, he’s so sorry he doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, but he can’t stop and please, please Daddy don’t hate him, don’t hate him, don’t hate him-

John kisses Dean.

 

^

 

Dean is floating. He is standing in the bedroom, stripped bare, with his father looking him over and Dean is floating. It’s happening. It’s real.

“How many men, Dean.”

“What?” Dean focuses. This is his father he needs to be alert and pay attention.

“How many men have touched you without my knowing it Dean?”

“I don’t know, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

“Not sir.” John says harshly, “Daddy.”

Dean shivers. “Yes, Daddy. I don’t know, _Daddy_. I’m sorry, _Daddy_.”

“I’m going take this out on your back side, Dean.” John takes off his leather belt. “You should have known better than to let all those men touch you without my permission. And so often you don’t know how many lashings you need. So,” John fold the belt, “I’m going to beat you until you can’t stand it. Until you reach your limit. And then I’m going to fuck you, boy.”

Dean folds himself over the bed.

 

^

 

He will never know how long he took his beating. How many times John hit him. He won’t be able to walk the next day, or for a whole week. He will lay on his stomach legs spread for John to use as he pleases and John wants to use him often. It makes Dean so happy he cries during sex and his father calls him his sweet little girl and Dean will ask if John means that, if that’s something they can do, sometimes. Not all the time, but sometimes. And his father will go still and then promise to buy his little girl all the panties and skirts and dresses she wants for when she wants them and Dean will cry again.

But for now, it is the night that John fucks Dean for the first time and Dean’s ass is on fire and his thighs are on fire and his back is on fire and he is so high on the pain that he can’t think anymore.

This is when his father fucks him. On their knees with Dean limp on the bed and with John behind, above, over him fucking him bare, no barrier between father and son and Dean’s ass eats all of his father’s come and his father praises him for being a good little bitch and taking his beating and his fucking so well.

Dean calls him Daddy all night and the taste of the name on his tongue, used correctly, finally, is so sweet he can’t stop saying it, can’t stop telling his Daddy how much he loves him. Never wants to stop.

John fucks him three times and uses his mouth twice. They fall asleep on the same bed and wake up wrapped up together and Dean is happy. So goddamn happy.

 

^

 

John watches his boy. His beautiful Dean. He always had before, when he was younger. But he had kept himself from touching. Had wanted an excuse, something to justify it, to make it so it would happen again. Had flirted with the idea of faking a witches curse just so he could have his son. Bend him over. Make him beg.

Turns out he’d been waiting for no reason. Dean was a perfect bitch, knew what his father really wanted and got on his knees to give it to him. Didn’t matter what. He was the obedient son.

“Daddy!”

John drank his beer. Watched from the corner chair as three men fucked his son. The money for the privilege was on the table at his elbow. Dean was a good whore. Made more money in one nights work than they could make hustling pool in four. Once they were done, John would spread his boy out on the bed and fuck him hard, remind him who his real Daddy was. Make him choke on his cock like the good bitch he was.

John loved Dean, too. Loved him like he loved his guns. Useful things that did what he needed them to do. Never failed so long as they were properly maintained.

And as long as he made Dean feel loved, he would be the best hunter, the best son, the best whore and the best fuck toy John could ever hope for.

He wasn’t the praying type, but he felt like thanking God for giving him such a magnificent son.


End file.
